


Fabric of Time

by Tarlan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Community: undermistletoe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-08
Updated: 2007-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've come so close to dying so many times, but this time Rodney thinks their luck has run out, and he can't hold his feelings inside any longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fabric of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LJ UnderMistletoe 2007 Challenge

The installation was Ancient in design and Rodney suspected it would have been quite a sight to behold ten thousand years ago. Now it was only so much debris partially hidden within the shifting sands on this desert world. He knew time had a way of changing everything for good or bad. Some places remained in remarkable condition, like Atlantis with its graceful towers, though he was the first to admit that there were areas of the city that had seen a lot of damage over the past few years due first to the shield slowly collapsing while the city was underwater, and then to the destructive forces of the Wraith and Replicators. From what he could tell, though, the forces of nature had played the greatest role in reducing this Ancient installation to ruins rather than the Wraith.

"Anything?"

Rodney glanced across at Ronon and then carried on scanning. "Surprisingly...Yes." He pointed towards the center of the ruins where the sand had drifted up against a dilapidated wall. "That way." He'd taken two steps towards the faint energy signal when a hand grabbed his upper arm.

"Not so fast, Rodney." Sheppard gave him the 'I am the leader' look he seemed to reserve solely for Rodney and set out ahead of Rodney with Teyla moving a few steps behind.

With a huff of annoyance, Rodney looked towards the grinning behemoth who was still standing just to the side of him and then followed on behind Teyla, hating the way his feet sank into the soft sand, making it harder to walk. A large hand grabbed the back of his TAC vest as Teyla and Sheppard fanned out ahead of him to pass a low, half-buried wall, and Rodney tried to shrug Ronon off.

"Hands off you....Neanderthal."

Ever since the planet with the evil entity that had taken Sheppard's form, Ronon had become more grabby. Just because Sheppard had given him an order to manhandle Rodney out of the jungle that first time, it didn't mean he had a right to manhandle him like an errant child on every planet since. Of course his words had no effect and he was forced to wait until Sheppard had given the sign that it was safe to proceed. This time Ronon let him go when he twisted to get free and Rodney stalked after Sheppard, scowling when he reached the spot where the signal was strongest and yet seeing nothing that could be the object in question.

"McKay?"

"Yes, yes. I know," he snarled in answer to Sheppard's question, and began to kick at the fine sand, pushing it aside with his foot until he hit something solid beneath. "Aha!" Dropping to his knees, he began to push aside the sand with his hands until he had cleared a fraction of the object. From the shape and size, he determined it must have once stood upright but time and the wind blowing sand across the desert had brought it down. Still, he brushed carefully at the visible surface until he could make out the symbols etched into its sand-smoothed surface.

"It's in an Ancient dialect," Rodney stated.

"Wraith?" Rodney froze, eyes darting around the sand-covered ruins until he realized that he was the only one panicking. "I meant the inscription, Rodney. Is it Wraith?" John rolled his eyes.

He sighed in annoyance that was, admittedly, tinged with relief. "No."

"Well can you read it?"

"Do I look like Daniel Jackson?"

"Temper, temper"

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes...Maybe. I think I need to touch...here." He pressed his hand against a group of symbols before Sheppard could stop him, and they all looked up as the sand began to vibrate ahead of them. A door seemed to slide back in the side of a high dune, with some of the sand covering the previously hidden entrance spilling into the darkened maw. Rodney shared a surprised yet curious look with Sheppard before glancing back down at his PDA, noticing that the energy signal had jumped up in strength. "In there," he stated almost breathlessly, grinning smugly as he showed the new readings to Sheppard.

Rodney clambered back to his feet and moved to the threshold, looking into a small room that was not much larger than the transporter closets on Atlantis. He went to peek inside but Sheppard caught his arm again, giving him one of those looks. Since _dying_ at the hands--metaphorically speaking--of the evil entity, Sheppard had taken to being overprotective, almost smothering him at times like now when he was just trying to do his job the same way he had on a hundred missions previous to this one.

"Oh, for heaven's sake." He rolled his eyes but indicated towards the room. "Go ahead!"

Sheppard turned to the others. "Stay here." He stepped into the small room and turned around, a tiny smile gracing his all-too pretty mouth as some dim lights came on. Rodney looked in and drew back quickly, almost willing to believe it was reacting to Sheppard's ATA gene but something didn't quite add up. It filled him with a sense of unease.

"Maybe I should wait here too. I mean...Doesn't it look a little...erh...small inside there?"

"Need I remind you that you were the one who wanted to investigate the ruins on this world? Something about a ZPM?" Sheppard took on a sly look. "Of course, we could always head back to Atlantis and let Zelenka come back and find..."

"That is so unfair. You're just playing to my competitive nature."

"And your greed," Ronon added, gaining a death glare from Rodney.

"And is it working?" Sheppard asked, almost too casually.

Rodney bristled and gave a begrudging, "Yes." He stepped into the small, dimly lit room and moved to the control panel set along the back wall exactly where he expected to find it.

Sheppard remained just inside the door, squinting into the dim interior of the room. "Does this all look familiar to you?"

"You know, this does remind me of the transporters on Atlantis," Rodney murmured as he investigated the symbols set into the wall, pressing one and watching as a panel slid open reluctantly to reveal a schematic, just like in Atlantis. "Except..."

"Except?"

"Except not." Rodney turned to Sheppard, aware that he was frowning. "Everything looks Ancient; the style, the design, the materials, even the language is close but it's all...subtly wrong. It's a copy, an...an..." He snapped his fingers and grinned crookedly. "An emulation. An overzealous imitation of Ancient technology and design." He straightened as Sheppard cocked his head to one side and frowned. "Don't get me wrong, this is still impressive...but not that much more advanced than the best technology Earth has to offer." Sheppard still had a constipated look that was, no doubt, a mixture of concern and confusion so Rodney clarified for him. "It's an elevator, not a transporter. It just..."

"It just looks like a transporter."

"Yes."

"But it's really an elevator."

Rodney held out his arms wide. "Didn't I just say that?"

"A ten thousand year old _elevator_... in a pile of ruins."

Rodney rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to ask why Sheppard was being intentionally thick when it struck him that, yes, they were standing in an ancient rather than an _Ancient_ elevator car at the top of what could be an exceptionally deep shaft. "Oh no," he breathed and took a step forward only for Sheppard to put up a hand at the ominous sound of metal creaking from the shift in weight.

"Don't move." Sheppard looked through the doorway, spotting Ronon standing guard about twenty feet away; he tapped his radio. "Ronon. We may have a problem here."

Something twanged above their heads and Rodney had a terrible feeling it was the cabling used to raise and lower the elevator; ten thousand year old cable with metal fatigue. His worst fears were realized and he yelled as the lights cut out and the elevator dropped, his stomach trying to crawl out his throat, his screams drowned out by the screech of metal on metal as the emergency brakes caught, slowing the elevator's descent. It lurched to an abrupt halt, sending Rodney crashing to the floor where he froze, terrified to move in case the slightest weight distribution sent them hurtling downwards again to their death. He estimated they'd dropped the equivalent of twenty floors, all in pitch black, making his memory of Universal's Tower of Terror pale into insignificance by comparison.

"Rodney? You okay, buddy?"

The concerned, disembodied voice came from just across the elevator. Words stuck in Rodney's throat, probably fighting for room with his stomach and he felt a momentary rush of anger because he could bet Sheppard hadn't screamed like a little girl. No, the adrenaline junkie was probably having the ride of his life, except this was no theme park, and there hadn't been anyone maintaining the equipment for the last ten thousand years. He cleared his throat.

"Emergency..." He cleared his throat again to get rid of the desperate and totally un-cool squeak in it, "Emergency brakes must have kicked in."

"For how long?"

The lights flickered, steadying to a dim yellow that was welcome even if it barely illuminated the elevator but at least some of his fear dissipated once he could see John's face. The light brightened further when Sheppard switched on a torch and panned the room from floor to ceiling and then in a full 360 degree circle. The groan of straining metal had Rodney raising his head again.

"How...how many floors do you think this goes down?"

"Gee, Rodney, I must have forgotten to pick up the guide book at the entrance." Sheppard briefly closed his eyes and gave Rodney a half-hearted smile of apology. "Did that schematic tell you anything?"

"The...?" His memory supplied an image and Rodney felt the blood drain from his face as he re-interpreted the horizontal mapping. It had been placed horizontally to make it easier to read at eye level rather than have it run vertically from ceiling to floor. The schematic had at least 40 and perhaps as many as 50 touch sensitive pads along its length. If each mark denoted one level then they had dropped less than halfway in free fall, and if the emergency brakes gave out now, there would be nothing to stop them hitting bottom another 20 to 30 levels below.

"Colonel Sheppard, Doctor McKay, can you hear me?"

Sheppard keyed his radio, "Teyla? We're still here." He looked at Rodney with a grave expression. "I estimate we dropped around 20 levels, but I have a strong feeling we haven't reached the bottom yet."

She sounded as if she was running. "Ronon has found another entrance to the installation, and a spiral stairwell leading downwards. We are on our way."

The car lurched, dropping just a few feet but Rodney knew the ancient brakes were going to give out eventually. He tapped his radio. "No hurry. We'll just wait here quietly until gravity overwhelms the machinery and we plummet to our deaths."

"We are coming... as fast as we can, Rodney."

Sheppard played the torch over the entrance and Rodney could see the grooves where the inner elevator doors should have closed but the doors seemed to be wielded open by the ravages of time. Rodney had to admit that this was the only piece of luck they'd had so far because he could see no sign of an access panel in the ceiling or floor. If either were there then they were far more cleverly concealed than the level of technology in this place implied.

In the dim lighting, too terrified to move in case it sent them hurtling to their deaths, Rodney found his focus solely on the other man, watching the play of shadows across Sheppard's face that gave him a demonic look one moment and made him far too angelic the next. It didn't surprise Rodney that he was attracted to both sides of this man, that he accepted the ruthless, shoot-to-kill side as an integral part of John Sheppard, balancing out the softer, weaker side of his personality that Rodney had seen all too clearly during that fight inside Sheppard's dream.

The doppelganger had seen all their deepest fears, looking deep into the core of the people it inhabited. It had seen all of Rodney's fears and had played them like a finely tuned instrument to send him to his mental--and physical--death. It had found Sheppard's greatest fear too; his fear of failing his friends, of failing _him_.

Perhaps if Kate Heightmeyer had lived then Rodney might have worked it out earlier during one of his regular sessions with her. Instead, it took him a while before he realized how empty John's dream had been. No hot girls like he'd expected, just John battling alone against a creature that had taken on his face and form, and which had stripped his worst nightmare from his subconscious; Rodney's death. He recalled the words spoken by the entity as it battered at John's mental defenses with laser precision, tearing him apart with loss and failure. It had been cold in Sheppard's nightmare right up until the moment Rodney announced his presence, and then warmth had flooded through the imaginary gate room. Once the entity was defeated, more warmth had enveloped him, wrapping around him so tight that it took a moment to realize the hug was only imaginary too, not real.

Of all things, that mental hug should have opened Rodney's eyes because Sheppard had never been the touchy-feely type in reality. Yet in his dream he had reached for Rodney, enfolding him within his arms and holding him so tight that when the connection was severed and Rodney ended up back in his own body, he felt momentarily disoriented at the loss of those arms around him. Of course it had not helped that John's actions had mirrored the kind of desire Rodney felt for his very male team leader, the type of dream that would never have interested the entity because those fantasies were all about hope and love and happiness.

As he looked across the dimly lit elevator, aware that their lives were hanging by a thread, he thought of all the times he could have said something to John following on from his personal epiphany. It was always in the aftermath of some calamity, when the danger had passed, and he had balked each time, afraid of losing the friendship he valued so deeply if he was mistaken. This time was different. This time he would plummet to his death with John beside him, their bodies splattered and mangled together in the depths of this not-Ancient installation, and he dearly wanted to be held in John's arms just once, in reality, before either of them died.

"I...I love you."

John froze, staring at him in shock, jaw dropping.

"I...I wasn't going to say anything because..." He gave a self-derisive huff, "But, with imminent death hanging over us, I...I..." He waved a hand around carefully, afraid that any undue movement might jar loose the slender thread holding the elevator suspended halfway down the incredibly deep shaft.

John snapped his jaw shut and aborted at least two attempts to respond to Rodney's declaration. "Why don't I ever see this coming?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Rodney looked down in embarrassment. "Just pretend I..."

"Katie Brown."

Rodney brought his head up sharply at the non sequitur. "What?"

"Katie Brown? You're dating her. You sat with her after the amnesia incident. When I woke up you weren't..." He trailed off looking a little disconcerted and Rodney could hear the missing words 'with me'. Rodney swallowed hard, wondering how he could explain that he thought she was dying, and he'd felt so guilty because he was glad it was her and not John and, anyway, he'd sat with John too.

"I sat with you too," he stated indignantly, then lowered his voice to a whisper. "I went to the botany lab to break it off with her, and she gave me this...this...cactus, and she'd named it after me and then she was ill...and I thought she was dying." He straightened up, dragging his dignity up with him. "I may not be the most socially well adjusted person on Atlantis but even I wasn't going to break up with someone on their death bed."

John smiled, one of those soft indulgent smiles that had been missing recently. "You were going to tell her during your lunch date."

Rodney squirmed. "They had chocolate cake," he exclaimed, as if that explained everything, which it did to his way of thinking because he'd always found food a great source of comfort when handed bad news. He dragged a PowerBar out of one pocket and tore open the wrapper, stuffing in half the bar in one bite.

"We're not going to die here, Rodney."

"No." He swallowed and held up a finger. "No, you don't know that. This...this ten thousand-year-old death trap has been well and truly sprung and we are going to fall to our deaths and be smeared into...into...like jam on bread."

John winced. "Nice image, Rodney."

"Oh god, we're gonna die."

"Sheppard! McKay!" The muffled voice came through the thickness of metal walls.

"Here!"

John pushed to his feet and the elevator creaked ominously. They could hear Ronon somewhere below their position, and could hear the sound of metal giving under strain but that came from below. Rodney pushed to his feet too and stepped towards John, and the elevator dropped about eight feet, metal screeching as the emergency brakes gripped again. A flash of light passed by and Rodney realized they had passed an opened doorway with Ronon's large frame silhouetted momentarily. When the elevator came to a halt it left barely a two foot gap at the top, yet just about deep enough for them to wriggle through.

"Take off your vest, Rodney."

"What!" He eyed the opening, aware that if the car dropped while he was wriggling through that opening then he'd be severed in two. "We can't crawl through there. What if the car drops another few feet while I'm halfway through?"

"What if it drops while we're still on-board?"

Rodney felt his heart drop to his stomach in fear, momentarily frozen as he pitted one terrible death against another. With trembling fingers, he pulled off his TAC vest, grimacing at every creak. A cloud of dust heralded Ronon's drop to the floor, lying on his belly and peering through the gap. Rodney shoved the TAC vest at him and Ronon grabbed it and cast it aside in annoyance.

"There's important equipment..."

"Give me your hands."

A sideways glance showed John ready to clamber through with Teyla's assistance. Rodney squeezed his eyes closed and then reached up to grasp the edge of the dust covered floor above, feeling Ronon's strong grip locking around his biceps and hearing the grunt of exertion as Ronon tugged on him quickly while Rodney strained to pull himself up. With his upper body halfway through, Ronon changed tactics and grabbed the back of Rodney's jacket, dragging him out like a rag doll but, for once, Rodney didn't complain at the rough handling. Behind him, the creak of metal became a screech as emergency brakes gave way and the elevator plummeted.

"John!"

"Here! I'm here."

Rodney rolled onto his back, eyes squeezed closed and heart racing as he offered up a prayer of thanks to a god he didn't even believe in. A muffled sound many levels below determined the fate of the elevator and he opened his eyes as he felt a warm hand on his chest, looking up into John's worried eyes.

"You okay?"

"Fine. I'm...We're alive!" He grinned widely and John smiled back.

"Yeah."

Rodney scowled at the smug expression but then realized he really couldn't be angry at John for being right. They hadn't died in the elevator, and then he remembered his equivalent of a death-bed declaration. Oh god, he'd told John, and even the exhaustion of climbing twenty levels back to the surface didn't erase the fear of John pulling away from their friendship now that he knew how Rodney felt about him. Consumed within his own thoughts, he barely even noticed the ancient, desiccated corpses of Wraith victims or Ronon helping him up the last few flights and along a dark corridor lit only by their flashlights. He blinked rapidly when he stepped out into the blinding sunlight and the sight of the desert stretching towards the horizon. It took a moment to get his bearings, and then he realized they were on the far side of the sand dune that covered the elevator shaft. John eyed him with concern and Rodney ducked his head to avoid eye contact, wondering if burying his head in the sand would work as well in reality as it did in metaphor.

A slap on the back from Ronon had him moving forward. "Let's get out of here."

***

Keller treated the few cuts and bruises he and John had sustained, and then let them go with a warning to take it easy for the rest of the day, though Rodney had no intention of following that request. He had a thousand and one tasks to cross off his list of things to do before he slept that night. He had experiments to check on within the various labs, reports to read and write, ideas to spawn and meetings to arrange... and a Lieutenant Colonel to avoid at all costs in the hopes that by the time Sheppard caught up with him, he would have forgotten all about Rodney's declaration.

"Rodney!" Rodney winced as Sheppard jogged up behind him and fell in step. "We need to talk."

"No, we really don't." Rodney stopped in the corridor, glancing both ways quickly before continuing. "I said something in the heat of the moment in the firm belief that we were about to die. I..." John grabbed his arm and dragged him along to the transporter. "What is it with you and this desperate need to assert your...?"

"Rodney, shut up."

Keeping his tight hold on Rodney, John jabbed the location closest to the living quarters, his face stony, betraying nothing. Rodney sighed and tugged his arm free gently, resigned to the fact that they were going to have this talk whether he wanted it or not. Perhaps that was for the best though, giving him a chance to clear the air and, hopefully, salvage a little of the trust and friendship he had worked so hard to rebuild after the Arcturus fiasco. John seemed to sense this and guided him out of the transporter with the slightest brush of a hand to his back although that in itself spoke volumes because this was John, the man who kept his hands to himself for the most part. As John's door opened before him, Rodney took a deep breath. Neutral ground would have been preferable but it was too late to make demands. He glanced back as the door slid closed behind him, watching John pace the room.

"By love I meant..."

John took a threatening step forward, hands fisted at his sides. "No. You do not get to take it back."

Rodney snapped his mouth shut and watched as John dragged a hand through his unruly hair, making it even messier than usual. "Damn it, Rodney."

"If you want me off the team then..."

A hard glare had him shutting up again, waiting as John paced the room again, one hand still tugging at his hair. He stopped and turned.

"All this time I was convinced you were straight. And you waited until you thought we were gonna die before you said anything?"

Rodney opened his mouth to say something, to answer what was obviously a rhetorical question but what could he say? That he was sorry... Again? Instead he recalled all the times he had exalted the virtues of a woman in front of John, but then he truly did like women. Unfortunately or not, he liked men too but working with the US military had made him wary of openly revealing that particular side of his nature. Not that he feared being half beaten to death in some darkened laboratory in Area 51 but because it was easier dealing with other men if they didn't have some stupid, paranoid fear that he was checking out their ass. Admittedly, he did let his eyes wander occasionally, being only human after all, but he had never denied his bisexuality when questioned directly. The US government would not have offered him a contract if he had tried to keep his sexual preferences a secret from them, because that would have opened him up to potential blackmail, making him a security risk they could ill afford. Simply, he saw no need to advertise his bisexuality and antagonize the slightly homophobic organization that paid him pretty well.

Of course, his reason for not saying anything to John had been pure cowardice, not wanting to risk losing the best friendship of his entire life should John feel uncomfortable with the fact that Rodney liked men, and not just any man but _him_.

John mumbled under his breath, tone tinged with annoyance. "Wanted this for so long. Dreamed of it, and all this time..."

Rodney blinked rapidly as his mind parsed the words. Dreaming? John had been dreaming about him? Wanting him? He tried to reconcile that with memories of John's female conquests, of Chaya and Teer, of flirting with Norina, and that princess in the tower. And what about the latest in the long line? That hot Traveler chick who'd kidnapped him recently. It was hard to believe that they had been a smoke screen thrown up to distract anyone from realizing that the person he truly wanted was Rodney. But, if that was the case....

"Wait, wait, wait! If you've been wanting me since forever then why didn't _you_ say something sooner?" He snapped his fingers. "Oh, like when we were suspended in an elevator twenty floors above certain doom and held up only by a few rusty brakes riddled with metal fatigue after ten thousand years of no maintenance?"

John winced. "We weren't going to die, McKay."

"So when were you planning on telling me how you felt? Hmm?" He waited expectantly for an answer and then slumped in resignation at the look of acute pain on John's face. "You weren't. Ever."

John had the grace to look apologetic but Rodney didn't need to be a genius to understand why John would have remained silent. He had a homophobic military to contend with and the strong belief that the object of his affection was as straight as an arrow. Sighing heavily, Rodney cast his eyes down. "I guess it cuts both ways."

His lips pulled up in a sad smile at the breathy huff of laughter from John, and he glanced back up as John moved in front of him, so close that Rodney could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. He had to tilt his head up a fraction to meet John's eyes but what he read there made his breath catch in his throat. Both of John's hands reached out to cup his face, drawing him forward as John angled his head to kiss him softly with just the slightest brush of lips upon lips. He pulled back just far enough to gage Rodney's reaction, tongue sliding over full lips in a familiar nervous gesture.

"Idiot," Rodney stated tenderly and reached back, dragging John into a far more passionate kiss, and sinking into the longed-for pleasure of tasting and touching this man.

It was all the excuse either of them needed and Rodney moaned into the kiss as John's hands pushed under his shirt to smooth across his back in long firm strokes, pulling him in closer and tighter. The soft cotton bunched beneath his armpits and, with encouragement, he moved out of the embrace only for the time it took to strip the t-shirt over his head before pressing back against John's fully clothed body. Eagerly, he pulled at John's clothing, fingers pinching at tiny nipples before running through the soft, dark mat of curls adorning his chest, enjoying the low moans of pleasure muffled by another demanding kiss. The kiss ended with an obscene slurp as Rodney tore himself away.

"Oh god, we need to get naked, now."

John laughed as Rodney shoved his own pants and boxers to his ankles and dropped to the bed, tugging at the laces on his boots, his normally agile fingers thick and useless as the knots refused to untie, barely noticing the ease with which John had stripped until the man knelt down before him, totally naked. A hand slapped Rodney's fingers aside gently and made short work of untying the laces and dragging off the boots, casting the footwear, pants and boxers aside before giving one solid push to Rodney's bare chest that sent him sprawling backwards upon the bed. He swallowed hard as John crawled up him, licking and kissing exposed flesh until John's knees either side of Rodney's thighs, supporting arms held taut either side of his ribcage. Rodney reached up and cupped John's head, guiding him down for another kiss, humming in pleasure when the jangle of dog tags was silenced by the press of the naked chest upon his own as John settled over him like a heavy, warm blanket. He experimented with a tiny thrust of hips, feeling the answering hardness of John's erection digging back against him, desire sparking through him as John thrust back in a soft yet demanding rhythm.

All too soon he felt his release building, the perfect heat and friction drawing the pleasure from him as he crested a wave of pure ecstasy, his triumphant sob swallowed in a bruising kiss as he felt the slickness of fresh heat between them. They lay spent in a sticky heap until the weight of John's lean but heavy frame became too much to bear and Rodney was forced to nudge the almost comatose man aside. Lazy, wet, open kisses rained softly over his face and neck as a rough fingernail scraped over a sensitive nipple, causing Rodney to shudder with an echo of pleasure. Time seemed to stand still as they petted and kissed until the semen cooling on their heated flesh became sticky and annoying.

"I'm all sticky," he complained softly, feeling too good to make a real issue out of it.

"Me too."

Rodney opened one eye and frowned but John made no move to do anything about it for either of them. He gave him nudge but John simply lay there like he'd bonded with the mattress. With a huff, Rodney rolled off the bed to fetch a dampened washcloth from the bathroom, wiping himself down before dropping the cooling cloth on John's belly with a smug grin.

"Hey," John yelped, brow slightly creased with annoyance, but there was no anger in the exclamation. A quick swipe and the cloth was dropped onto the floor beside the bed. Rodney annoyed John some more by pulling at the covers until he could climb between the sheets with John tucked in beside him. He smiled softly as John reached for him and pulled him close.

***

Hours later, as he lay in John's bed, sated and happy, with the weight of John's arm across his chest and the warmth of John's breath against his cheek, Rodney thought back to all the times when they had come close to losing each other. It was hard to figure out what had made this last time so different until he realized that there truly was no distinction from every other time they had faced almost certain death either together or apart - except in the fabric of time itself. He couldn't even mourn for all the time they had wasted because, in hindsight, they had been together for years, just not as lovers.

He smiled as John snuffled in his sleep, the arm tightening around him and a leg pushing between his as John settled more comfortably as he cuddled Rodney.

"Least we know who the girl is in this relationship," he murmured, not expecting a response and flinching when John pinched an inch of flesh at his waist.

"That would be you."

"Who's the one doing the cuddling?"

"Oh yeah?" John gave a huge yawn, his jaw almost cracking. "And who's the one that screamed like a girl when that elevator fell?"

"Hardly a comparison. Anyone normal would have screamed when facing imminent death by falling elevator."

"I didn't."

"I said _anyone normal_."

"Lorne wouldn't have."

"I said normal?"

John laughed softly. "Just face it, McKay, you're the girl."

"Am not," he mumbled after a moment of silence, smiling when he gained no immediate response and closing his eyes.

"Are too," John murmured but Rodney merely sighed, his arms tightening around John as the weight of the day finally settled on his shoulders. Perhaps that was an argument for another day.

THE END


End file.
